Scars on her skin ran down her veins,
like waves in the sea some heavy some light,
All piercing her soul, it aches.
Scars are on the scarface like the water that reaches the sand,
drawing her back and forth into the depths of fears,
Her darkest memories.
The pain is deeper then she says.
it's like fire within her fills her up but shes never whole
surrounded by it.
Shes like ice, sharped and now cold
swept away in her misery bitter and alone
her heart now is stone.
About the Creator
Learn to Be Alone...
We often find that people are told to stop making 'X, Y and Z' their personality. Well, this only arose in the social media age as especially women's interests: reading, dramas, art etc. was heavily criticised as being 'useless'. It is historically well-documented that though many men require the work of women, whether it be through unpaid labour or entertainment, they also refuse to acknowledge it is important. This is why since it has been something of recognition, they have been complaining of a 'loneliness epidemic' now that women are withholding access.
By Annie Kapur7 days ago in Psyche
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